


Third Eye

by chloemagea



Series: Playing Dangerous [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Magic, The Lord of Light, Visions, season 7, summer isles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:44:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloemagea/pseuds/chloemagea
Summary: Sandor opens up to the Brotherhood in regards his own past dealings with possible magic as it relates to his long lost Summer Isle paramour.





	Third Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously the plot line of the recent seasons of GoT is different than what I wrote in regards to Sandor. My original ending is the one I stand by, but for fun, let's see I can manage to write a canon compliant version of Imani and Sandor's storyline if it was following the show. This is currently a one off but depending on how things go I might keep it going.

Sandor could feel Thoros staring at him, with his glassy eyes. He ignored it though, keeping his sight forward as they marched along in the cold and snow but the silence was broken by a question from the ruined priest.

"Are you thinking about what you saw in the flames?" Thoros asked, riding along next to him. Sandor lowered his brow, hating that Thoros was talking to him and even more hating the bitter cold that nipped at his skin.

"No," he said simply, but he knew it wasn't the end of it.

"You're thinking strongly about something." the priest said, Sandor hated that he was right, in truth he had been thinking ever since he looked into those flames and saw the vision.

"Aye, so what if I am?" he cut but dropped silently again his mind tripping backward to those odd vivid dreams. "Are there other ways to see things?" he finally said, reluctantly.

"Other ways to have visions? Yes, so many ways I don't know if I could name them all," Thoros laughed, "I could once, believe me, but all that drinking fucked my memory." he noticed the serious look on Sandor's face. "Why do you ask?"

Sandor shrugged his shoulders, "Forget it"

"You seem like you have a serious question, Clegane," said Beric Dondarrion from beside him. Sandor's face told of an obvious truth, he had seen something else and the other men couldn't help but be curious. Sandor lowered his brows and was silent for a moment.

"I had a woman once, a Summer Isle girl." he started, half expecting Thoros to quip something to the likes of 'and your face didn't scare her off?' yet, he priest didn't throw an insult. "She and her sisters had come to King's Landing years ago."

"I remember them, there was three, right?" Beric asked.

"Aye, the middle one took a liking to me for whatever reason." Once again he for the members of the Brotherhood to say something in disbelief, but they didn't, they all just listened to him intently. "Obviously they left and I never saw her again, until I had this dream the night before the Battle of the Black Water. It was so vivid." he uttered and Beric and Thoros both looked at him, intrigued at the expression he had on his face as he stared off into the white, snowy distance. "She was standing in this room that went on forever, the floor was black but clear as crystal. Her palm was bleeding and there was this fucking light flickering on the surface of her eyes."

"Candle light?" Thoros asked, looking shocked.

"Aye, it did look a bit like that, I guess."

Suddenly Thoros let out a laugh and threw his head back. "Oh, my! Those are no dreams, Clegane. Your lady love must have magic in her blood to use Glass Candles." The wind howled, and the cold cut across Sandor's face as he narrowed his eyes.

"The fucks that?" he asked, the usual roughness of his voice slightly weakened.

"It's rumored that they allow people to see across seas and into other peoples dreams. It's some old magic, painful magic. I thought the last candles were at the Citadel, but the Summer Isle people don't really like to share their beliefs and traditions, do they?"

"I've always found them a little 'witchy'" Beric added, causing Sandor to scoff and roll his eyes.

"Says the fucker who has actually come back from the dead," he mumbled, but Beric ignored him.

"A Summer Isle woman would be fifty and you would never know it."

"It's their skin." Sandor uttered, as he put one hand to his chest, making sure that the old blood stained letter from her was still folded and pressed against his heart.

"What does she tell you when she visits?" Thoros asked.

* * *

_He knew the black glass floor all too well now. Sandor turned around and looked into the dark void that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Suddenly, and instantly, yellow eyes snapped into existence a few yards away. They seemed to move on their own, not attached to anything, inching closer and closer to him. Sandor clenched his teeth and went to reach for his sword at his hip when he realized what the glinting eyes, yet he didn't have his blade. Long claws clicked and scrapped on the glass floor, the sound making his ears itch. Under the eyes was a large unmistakable fanged mouth, the maw of a black panther._

_The cat roared at him, as it got closer and closer, one paw leaving slicked red lines on the reflective ground. Sandor backed away at the beasts approach, but it stopped, and before his eyes, in one fluid motion the cat became Imani._

_"Did I frighten you?" she asked, with an entertained smile._

_Sandor blinked at her as she stood there, naked and bare in front him. The transformation from_ horrifying _big cat, to her brown, bony limbed self, was jarring. He had never seen her as intimidating or fierce, yet her inner cat clearly was._

_"Is this a dream?" he managed to utter, as she circled him slowly._

_"You're going North?" Imani asked, ignoring his question._

_"Aye, the --"_

_"White Walkers," she stole his words and looked up at him, light flickering on the wet surface of her black eyes. "Do you remember when you thought that I was silly for believing all the tales in my Westori books? You called it 'horse shit' once."_

_"Still might be horse shit."_

_"You don't believe that though, I know what you believe." Imani put one finger to his chest and poked him. "I know what you think."_

_Suddenly Sandor grabbed her by her wrist and looked down at her bleeding palm and pressed his thumb into the wound causing Imani to whimper in slight pain. The blood was warm, slick to the touch. He brought his finger to his mouth and tasted it, and as clear as the sky he could taste the metallic sting of her spicy blood._

_"The Red Dragon approaches." Imani uttered and panted as Sandor ran his hand along the curve of her smooth hip. "And do you know what kills the White Walkers?"_

_Sandor went to kiss her, but she reached up and grabbed him by his face and held his gaze. The flickering light on the surface of her eyes changed from orange to green. "Dragon fire," she whispered, and he couldn't stop staring at her eyes, those long Xe eyes with flames dancing in them. In that second, he recalled that exact shade of green, yellow green of a lightning bug. His heart wobbled in his chest when he recalled that last immortal summer night when they were in the rose gardens and the firefly landed on her shoulder and flicked its wings before it lit up. The light reflecting in her eyes, in the dark._

_"Be careful, one day our daughter should know you."_  

* * *

  
"Clegane? Clegane?" Thoros called, finally snapping Sandor out of his remembered vision. "What does she say to you?" The wind howled louder this time and Sandor clenched his teeth.

"None of the yer' fucking business."


End file.
